Black Static
by lalatina15
Summary: …you weren’t even sure who you were anymore. You’d lost yourself too many times over the years. Alex, oneshot


**Title:** Black Static**  
**

**Characters:** A certain raven haired beauty we like to call Alex Nuñez

**Pairing:** bits or Jalex and Palex

**Setting:** Just before TLOL (The Lexicon of Love) part 2.**  
**

**Author's Note**: Okay, so even as I type this, this one shot has no title. I suck at titles. So, this is me, about 12 hours earlier, asking you to excuse whatever crappy title I did choose for this. I've had this idea stuck in my head for awhile. Also, no, I didn't go "enter"-happy, it's purposely formatted the way it is. This sort of started out as a drabble of sorts... so I never meant for it to get so long (I was aiming for 500 words max... and ended up with 1000). Oh yes, and reviews are love... but constructive criticism is _sexy_.

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Through the years you've learned that your mother cries in her sleep. Her tears are what have often kept you up at night, listening to her pain, knowing that you couldn't do anything to help her. The boyfriend of the week—

was it Tommy, John, or Erik? …it was hard to keep up

—passed out on the couch, too drunk to head back to wherever he came from.

If there were really a "god", which many times you doubt, may he forgive you for wishing that he'd just get behind the wheel and crash… It'd solve so many of your problems.

Okay, you have to admit, that may be a lie, all your old problems would just resurface as soon as your mother got another boyfriend that would treat the both of you equally as bad—

endless fucking cycle.

You hate them all—Bobby, Rick, Dave

…whatever. They're all the same, but then again, so is she. She'd rather believe in her scumbag boyfriend of the week, or if she's lucky, month, than her twelve year old.

"Don't lie to me Lexi… tell mama the truth."

What's his name would accuse you of having an over active imagination.

You end up getting tired of talking to somebody who won't believe you, won't listen, and doesn't care to defend her own kid.

So it continues…

She passes out from too much…whatever she smokes, snorts, or drinks with them. You lie in bed, silently saying empty prayers that you know nobody is answering, as he enters your room.

You pretend to be asleep, always do, but it never makes a difference.

He rubs your cheeks and then kisses you roughly, allowing you to taste the cheap alcohol that still lingers in his mouth.

You try to fight him—kick, scream, punch, bite…

but what match is a ninety pound girl to a nearly two hundred pound drunken male?

He says that if you don't fight back it'll be over quicker, and if you relaxed, you might even enjoy it. He even tells you he fantasizes about what it would have been like to get to you when you were younger…

sick bastard.

It had been the same thing almost every night for three years; in a sick sort of way you'd gotten use to it… believed you deserved it almost… or thought it was just your luck of the draw for growing up "a welfare kid," as they'd teased you in school.

By the time you were thirteen, you'd been taken advantage of by three of your mom's boyfriends,

—not counting those others who tried.

It wasn't until your mother caught one of them forcing himself on you that she realized everything you'd said was true. That's when she promised she wouldn't bring any more men into the house, and she would stay clean…

of course that didn't last too long. Part of you wanted to blame her, but you couldn't. You knew she was too messed up to keep any promises.

Trusting was something that wasn't easy for you.

How could you, when you couldn't even trust your own mother anymore?

When you met Jay it scared you,

because he wasn't like the jackasses that'd had their way with you. He had his own baggage, his own mother with step fathers of the week…

He'd often tell you that you two were the same, and there wasn't any use fighting who you were.

You thought, who the hell was he to tell you who you were?

…you weren't even sure who you were anymore. You'd lost yourself too many times over the years.

But he was there when your mother inevitably fell back into her old ways, offering you his own brand of comfort when your own home wasn't an option for you at night or things got to be too much with Matt, Rich, or who ever it was now.

He got on your nerves often, and you'd fight light cats and dogs… but he was never forceful or tried anything those times you'd say "no".

You two weren't couple-y or love-y dove-y… hell, you were anything but girly and he was far from a gentleman. But you two worked

—and as much as you'd never admit to him, he actually made you happy. In an odd way, you'd forget about a lot of shit in your life when you were with him.

There was a lot of smiling with him

…in between all the fighting and hell you two would be raising of course. You caused enough trouble on your own, but with him, you gained a reputation.

But he never hit you, and your mom liked him; in a weird way, he sort of just fit into your life…

your life, which had been going surprisingly well, even for you.

Becoming student body vice president, and working with Paige—which didn't quite suck.

Then, other shoe dropped, like it does when things go well. Prince Charming, or whatever Jay wasn't, gave you gonorrhea. And surprise, surprise, your best friend Amy had been blowing him for bracelets worth pennies.

"Lexi, it didn't mean anything!"

"It wasn't real sex!"

Who were they kidding? You knew better. You weren't like your mother… you weren't going to just take it and let them get away with screwing each other and half of the school population.

You cut ties with both; you were better than that. You knew you could do better.

At work you look at Paige, and that's how know you can. A girl you were once scared of, you've now formed some sort of admiration for.

Admiration… yeah, that's what it was you tell yourself.

She wasn't so bad once you hang out with her… you know this because you started to associate yourself with her and her friends somewhat. You blame this on being vice president.

You got her to smoke a joint with you before a college fair one day. Getting treated like shit by her boyfriend and over stressing about the future, you determined she really needed it.

Slowly but surely, an odd friendship is formed by the two of you. You realize that there is more to her than drinking lattes and reading girly magazines and being popular. She somehow makes you want to be better around her…

She makes you smile… differently than you ever did with Jay.

More genuine

—more hopeful.

She wasn't any of those Henrys, Larrys, or Chads.

Much so to the point that it scares you, because you don't know what it means.

You escort her to a fancy-smancy movie premiere, hoping to brighten her spirits despite being cut out of the movie being shown. She looks happier than you've seen her in a long time…

And for the first time you admit to yourself that she not only makes you forget about your home life, but she makes you believe that you can do and be better. She breaks down the walls you set up and sees the person you can become.

So you kiss her, and she kisses you back.

…that's when you realize, maybe you've found your hope.

_the end._


End file.
